NFOG Episode 0
by Soldier Boy
Summary: You asked for, now you got it. Episode 0. Short glimpses into the character of the members of NFOG and their selection.


Certain parts of this story are politically incorrect. Deal with it, live ain't pretty.

0321 hrs.25Dec14

Undisclosed Location, Balkans

A group of Rangers take cover in a dilapidated structure on the far side of a street. Machine-gun and rifle fire filled the road, rounds zinging towards the soldiers.

"Sir! We're on the right side of the road! It should be relatively easy to the pick-up, sir!" a staff sergeant yelled.

"Hu-ah! Head count!" a captain yelled as he took cover behind a pillar. The man's hazel eyes were barely visible behind his goggles, his brown hair hidden under his helmet.

The sergeant moved among the troops, tapping each one as he passed.

"Short one! Thompson's not here!" a sergeant yelled over the gunfire.

The captain readjusted his mic.

"Thompson! Thompson! Can you here me? Where are you?" the captain yelled.

The soldier's reply came garbled over the radio.

"...hit...far side of road...Can't-"

"Hold you position, Thompson! We'll get you!" the captain yelled.

"Captain! We can't make it across that street! Weight of fire's too heavy!" a corporal yelled over the piff of several rounds striking the captain's cover, causing him to duck.

"I'll go then!" the captain yelled as he threw a smoke grenade down the road.

"Hold on, Thompson! I'm comin' to getcha!" the captain yelled into the radio.

"Sergeant Patterson! When I tell ya, put suppressive hard down the street!"

"Hu-ah sir!" the sergeant replied.

The officer looked down the road, and decided there was enough smoke.

"Now!" the captain yelled as he jumped out from cover.

As he ran across the street, rounds impacted into the hard-packed ground beneath his feet. The captain dove into cover on the other side of the street at blind fire chattered through the smoke cloud, it's distinct smell stinging his nostrils.

"Thompson, where are you!"

"..ground floor...eas...building."

The officer moved as quietly as he could at a rapid speed to the position of the injured soldier. Thompson was lying on his back holding his weapon facing the door, a widening pool of blood at his feet.

"Where you hit, man?" the captain asked kneeling down next to him.

"Chest plate. Partial penetration, I think."

"You gonna be alright to get outta here?"

"I'm fine. Can't move fast though."

"Alright, Thompson. Come' ere." the captain said as he picked the man up and put him over his shoulder.

"Patterson! I want that suppression now!" the captain yelled as he moved to the doorway.

Patterson responded with a hail of fire down the street at the enemy position. The Ranger captain took that opportunity to move at full speed across the street. Every footstep seemed to take hours as he moved with the weight of an extra person on his back, bullets filling the air. After what seemed like an eternity, he was finally in cover on the far side of the street.

"Miller! Get over here! Thompson's hit!"

The medic ran over as the captain carefully laid down Thompson on the dirty tile floor of the building they were sheltered in.

"How's he look, doc?" he asked the medic as he removed Thompson's body armour to get a better look at the wound.

"It's not too bad, Lampright. He'll be fine once we get'im outta here. Oh, and Lampright..."

"Yeah?"

"Warn me next time you're gonna do somethin' stupid."

"Yeah well, you know me."

"That's what I'm afraid of." the medic replied.

1503 hrs.10July14

Undisclosed Location, Russia

The three covered trucks roared into the Chechen camp. As they stopped, a burly dark-haired man stepped out of the cab of the rear truck.

"You have the weapons, da?" the Chechen leader said, his arm draped over the AK-74 slung over his shoulder.

"Da, Ivan, da. Would you like to see the shipment?" replied Denisovich, as he stepped out of the truck, dressed in civilian garb.

"Yes, I am paying for it."

Denisovich walked around with him to the back of the truck. He lifted the cloth panel that made up the back of the truck, revealing a DSHK which promptly opened fire on the gathered crowd of rebels. Soviet Spetznaz jumped out of the back of the two trucks flanking it and spread out as they opened fire. One of they tossed a PKM to Denisovich, who grabbed it out of the air and opened fire on several fleeing Chechens. Within minutes, everyone of the Chechens was dead or dying quickly. Troops moved among the bodies, collecting weapons and dispatching those few still alive.

"Uritski! I want those tents cleared and burned! I want the weapons gathered and destroyed. And I want it done yesterday!"

The trooped sprang to attention and saluted.

"DA, sir!" the soldier responded and hurried off to follow his orders.

'Today was a good day.' Denisovich thought to himself with pride as he looked over the death and destruction his troops had caused.

2348 hrs.Undisclosed Date

Undisclosed Location, Middle East

"Montgomery! Hit the front vehicle!" the lieutenant yelled as the SAS opened fire on the convoy.

Montgomery fired an AT-4, hitting the front of the technical. The vehicle flipped, it's back rising into the air and continuing over the engine, the last truck exploding at almost the same time. The other soldiers on the sand berm opened fire on the trucks and the troops jumping out of them. Within a minute, all the trucks had been reduced to wrecks, and several soldiers moved down the slope and began searching the trucks as the remaining soldiers covered them. The troops began looking in the back of the trucks, and eventually one of them turned around and flashed a thumbs-up.

"Howard, get on the rad-tel. Tell'em we found and neutralized the shipment. Tell'em to get our 'bird in here too." the lieutenant said.

"Roger." Howard said as he pulled the handset from where it was hanging on a D-ring on his vest and began speaking into it.

Within minutes the helo had appeared on the horizon and grew larger until it landed nearby. The troops pile into the helo, and within seconds are gone, leaving no trace except for scrap and corpses. The troops begin their emotional decompression almost immediately.

"So, did you guys hear about Howard's latest prank?" a lance corporal asked.

"Yeah, I heard the aircrew's coffee tasted a bit...salty this morning." the lieutenant said.

"Yep. Took me about three days to get enough piss to completely fill their coffee maker." Howard replied with a grin.

"Speaking of which, a pair of cinder blocks also ended up in my ruck. You know anything about that, Howard?" the lieutenant asked.

"Not a thing." Howard replied innocently.

"What's wrong Monty? You gonna tell me you don't even find it remotely amusing?" Howard asked.

"Nah, I just don't think it's a good idea to piss off the aircrews who decide if we get extracted or not." Montgomery replied.

"That's right. I forgot you didn't have a sense of humor. Monty, how many tours you done?"

"Next week I'll have done this for twelve years."

Three or four of the other guys whistle.

"That's a long time." the lance corporal said.

"Yeah. I'm an old fart at thirty. At least there's nothin' that'll surprise me anymore." he said with a slight smirk.

1339 hrs.04July14

Undisclosed Location, Germany

A German Fallshirmjaeger captain and lieutenant observe a training exercise in an open field.

"You sure he's out there? I don't think he's out there. I mean, I don't see him out there." the lieutenant said.

"Just wait." the captain said.

Two shots rang out.

"Scholtz and Fredrick are out." a referee said over the radio.

Several minutes passed as the remaining two soldiers searched for the sniper. Another shot.

"Elsner's out."

Bang.

"Scheider."

"Where is he?" the lieutenant asked.

Three more minutes went by.

"Game." a low voice said.

The lieutenant turned, startled. A man, his face painted, dressed in a ghillie suit stood holding the captain, a knife to his throat.

"HOLY SHIT!" Where did you come from!" the lieutenant yelled.

"That's enough, Jaeger. You've made your point."

The sniper smiled widely, his white teeth a sharp contrast to the dark paint covering his face.

0256 hrs.14June14

Somewhere in the Gobi Desert

The squad of Legionnaires continued to march through desert as they had done for the last 74 hours, evading the party searching for them. Once they reached the extraction point and loaded the helo, this exercise would be over and the troops could get some much needed R&R. The squad leader called a halt and checked their location with a map, GPS and compass. Smith idly adjusted the way his ruck sat on his back as he waited for orders. They passed back a hand signal, telling that they were about a mile out.

'Good. All this sand is getting really old.' Smith thought. The squad picked up their pace, eager to return to their staging area and get a shower. The squad ran the last quarter mile. The squad leader ran up to the helo, an old sea stallion. The others went around to the rear ramp, while the squad leader went to the side door. He opened it, and was greeted with a wicked right jab to the face. The rear ramp suddenly dropped and about two dozen soldiers jumped from the back and the melee began. Smith hit one with a low cross to the gut, dropping him. He hit another in the helmet with the butt of his rifle. Suddenly he was grabbed form behind in a rear-naked choke hold. Smith passed out for several seconds, and woke up surrounded by their assailants, all of his fellow legionnaires lying on the ground with him. Their commanding officer stepped from the helo.

"You approached the LZ too fast. The proper way to make contact for a cold extraction is to observe the LZ first, men." the captain said as him and the other attacking soldiers loaded back up in to helo and began to close the rear ramp.

"There's a camp about twenty miles NE of here, maybe you can find a way back from there." the officer yelled at them.

Smith pulled one of the grenade simulators from a pouch and threw it, barely making it into the helo before the ramp closed. The muffled thump was audible even over the sound of the rotors.

0246 hrs.24April14

Undisclosed Location, Central America

Four men quietly creep through the jungle. The drizzling rain dripping from their boonie hats and smearing their face paint. The lead man gave a hand gesture and they all dropped to the prone. The trailing three moved up inline with the lead man. He pointed to the 'farm' below them. Several acres of marijuana and coca plants, hidden in the middle of the jungle. One of the men pulled out a laser designator and lit the middle of the field. Another of the men squelched the radio, and they all waited. Almost fifteen minutes later, a flight of unmarked F/A-18s screamed in, dropping their incendiary payload on the field. They squelched radio again, signaling the completion of their mission, then disappeared as quietly as they had appeared.

0318 hrs.25Dec14

Undisclosed Location, Southeast Asia

'Seriously! Worst Christmas EVER!" yelled a slightly-shorter than average SEAL as he placed plastique on the bridge's stress points, while hanging from a rope 20 meters above the ground as bullets ricocheted off the metal beams around him.

"Cooper, you done up there yet?" the ensign asked.

"I can do this job a lot faster if they'd stop shootin' at me!" he replied.

"Yeah, wouldn't we all." the officer replied.

"I need about four minutes, can you hold'em off?"

"You got two!"

Gunfire continued to echo through the landscape, from both on and off the bridge for several minutes.

"Done!" Cooper yelled and started climbing back up the rope.

"Good. All units, begin falling back!" the ensign said over the radio.

"My pleasure." Cooper responded as he pulled himself onto the surface of the bridge.

"Cooper, you're first!"

"Roger that."

Cooper ran to the 'safe' end of the bridge and took a covered fire position from behind a girder.

"In position." he radioed.

'I wonder what Lampright's doin'.' he thought as he opened fire.

2034 hrs.23Aug14

Somewhere in the Canadian Wilderness

Larson kicked open the door of the building as his team-mates spread out and cleared the mock village. A pop-up target activated in front of him, and he swung his M-240B around and fired a burst, his large frame shuddering as the weapon bucked and kicked, sawing the target in half. Another target popped-up from behind a couch, a terrorist with a human-shield. In one fluid motion, Larson dropped his M-240, allowing it to dangle by it's sling, and drew his pistol, all in one smooth motion. He brought his Browning hi-power up and immediately fired three shots, all three hitting home, striking the terrorist dead-center in his face. he holstered his pistol and again shouldered his powerful weapon. He began moving down a hallway, as a target suddenly darted in front of him. Larson fired a short burst at it's face, tearing the head off the plywood silhouette and sending it flipping end over end down the hall. Larson kicked the target down, snapping it at the base where it connected to it's motorized rollers and strode down the hall, looking for more targets.

1523 hrs.12Jun14

East Fuji Maneuver Area

Sonoda gave a quick hand signal and the three men behind him dropped to the ground. Several meters ahead through the brush, was their objective. The road. The team waited, perfectly still, for over two hours before the convoy squad came by. Sonoda hit the clicker, the grenade simulators along the road exploding. The machine gunner to Sonoda's right opened up, the each belted blank causing the emitter on the end of his weapon to fire a laser pulse picked-up by the receptors worn by the other 'team'.

"Charge!" Sonoda yelled, and the four men jumped up and ran through the smoke, firing at anything that moved.

The referee suddenly blew his whistle, signaling the end of the engagement.

"All eleven op-for are neutralized. Engagement complete. Sonoda, you're team gets to eat. Dead men don't need food." the captain said, glancing at the others.

0259 hrs.Undisclosed Date

Undisclosed Location, New Guinea

Sergeant Herford moved through the shadows with an almost effortless ease. He looked around the clear area between the cabin-like structures, scouting for guards. He scanned the area, making sure the guard he had spotted was the only one, and crept towards the guard. As he snuck along the wall of the building, he picked up a rock about the size of a fist. Herford stopped as he reached the corner. He drew back his arm and threw the rock forward and around the corner. The noise distracted the guard and allowed him to come up behind him without his knowledge. He pulled his garrote tight across the guard's neck, holding it until he stopped struggling.

"Clear." he whispered into his mic.

Seven other operators stepped around the corner and took positions to storm the doorway. The pointman readied his breaching shotgun, and blew the door down. Two flashbangs went in, exploded, and were followed by the eight SASR soldiers. They stormed every room, shooting everyone who fought back. Herford and his battle-buddy were the ones who found the operation's objective. The mark was cowering in his closet, shaking at they threw open the doors. He began pleading with them as the SASR soldiers threw him to the ground and pinned him there with his knee, grabbing him by his thumbs to help control him. Herford's partner quickly riot cuffed him, cinched the sandbag over his head, and called the medic for a litter. The mark was quickly duct-taped to a litter and the SASR folded back to the LZ, boarding the helo. They were airborne thirteen minutes after they arrived. In side the helo, the calm and collected operators contrasted starkly to the hysterical, struggling prisoner.

"Calm down boy, we wouldn't want you to hurt yourself now." Herford said as he patted him on the head.

1534 hrs.28July14

Bogata, Columbia

Antonio Paulo drove his Porsche across the one lane bridge over the river, thinking about how kind being a drug lord had been to him. He had over a thousand employees, hundreds of acres of coca plants, and dozens of farms.

"And those idiotic capitalists in America supply all of my profits! HAHAHAHA!" he said to himself.

Suddenly the ambulance in front of his came to a stop. It just sat there. Antonio waited. Minutes passed. He checked his watch. He was going to be late for his latest deal. Enraged, Antonio jumped from his car, and walked to the back of the ambulance. Suddenly the rear doors of the ambulance opened, revealing two of the local police pointing uzis at him. Two Delta operators jumped from the back of the ambulance, grabbed him and threw him. The ambulance sped off, sirens blaring as they cuffed and searched him. Antonio began hurling threats at the local police officers.

"You're both dead! You're families, dead! You're friends, dead! Just wait until I bribe my way out!"

At this last statement the two operators glanced at each other, and one of them made a slight smirk. The announcements of the criminal were making the two officers slightly nervous. The ambulance suddenly came to a stop and the rear doors opened. Antonio was suddenly quiet as the color drained from his face. Through the rear doors he saw the open ramp of an idling American C-17, waiting on the runway just for him.

1101 hrs.18Mar14

Aboard a Helicopter Assault Ship, At Sea

Several marines are sitting around a table in the break room playing cards.

"This spring break sucks! I could be at Daytona beach right now! But NO, some little piss-ant dictator has to act-up, and now my vacation is ruined! Four aces." Maloy said as he laid down his cards.

"Aww, what's wrong Maloy, McDaniel's tits not big enough for ya?" one of the marines asked, the comment well received by almost everyone at the table.

One of the marines suddenly stopped laughing.

"Wait a minute! Four aces! I've got two right here!" he said, slamming his cards down on the table.

"Uh-oh." Maloy said, promptly jumping up and running for the door, running straight into a lieutenant.

"What the hell are you doing Maloy!" the officer yelled.

"Shit."

1405 hrs.Undisclosed Date

Conference Room, NERV Headquarters

Kozo Fuyutsuki and Gendo Ikari sat in the otherwise empty room, a large pile of personnel files in front of them. Most had been tossed aside, but a few had been placed in one small pile off to the side.

"So First Lieutenant Boyarski for team leader then?" Fuyutsuki asked.

"He was not my first choice, but-"

"Mr. Fuyutsuki, you have a secure call, line 3." the P.A. announced.

Ikari reached down and pushed the button, activating the small speaker phone device built into the desktop.

"Gendo Ikari speaking."

"Yes, commander, this is Lt. Col. Farwell of the Second Ranger Battalion. I was told that you were looking to 'adopt' one of my men for your operation, Captain Lampright, is that correct?"

"Yes. But we have decided to go with a second choice due to his absence."

"No need. He just stepped-off of a '130 from-never mind, I can't tell you. But he is now available."

"Excellent. I will be in contact with you LTC." Gendo said before hanging up.

"So we have our first choice after all." Fuyutsuki said, throwing the file in his hand onto the larger pile and reaching down to pick-up another file and place in on the small pile.

"So this is it?" Gendo said, motioning to the pile of thirteen records.

"Between them they've got over 72 combat jumps, 20 HRT missions, a dozen infiltrations, 18 last stands, 11 suicide missions, and more than 100 years of combat experience, including over 30 years of unaccounted for time."

"They sound like just the kind of men we need. How soon can we have them here?" Gendo said.

"We just need to get the various nations of the U.N. to ok the use of their best soldiers." Fuyutsuki said.

"Leave than to me." Gendo replied.


End file.
